One True Thing by Lynne Jaymes

One True Thing by Lynne Jaymes

Author:Lynne Jaymes [Jaymes, Lynne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-05-26T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter Fifteen (Ty)

It’s already dark by the time we pull into the apartment parking lot. We’ve been quiet most of the ride home, each of us lost in our own thoughts. Supper was good and Gram makes some of the best fried chicken I’ve ever had, but there was something heavy in the air after Gramps went off like that and I couldn’t wait to get out of there. All I could think of was my dad and what he would have said to him. And what he would have said to me for just sitting there, silently watching the whole time. I glance over at Jenna in the passenger seat. She looks tired and worried and I wish there was something I could say to put her mind at ease. But all of the real, true things I could say to her would only make it worse, so although I’ve tried a hundred times to say something reassuring, not much has come out.

I turn the car off and reach for the door, but Jenna puts a hand on my arm to stop me. “Can we talk about it?” she asks, her voice barely audible.

I sit back in my seat trying to figure out what to do. This would be a good time to get out of whatever this is we’ve been doing the past couple of weeks. I could blame it on Gramps, tell her that I just can’t deal with her family. It would be easy. But I take one look at her brown eyes and know that I’m not going to. I’m not going to say what I should say because that will end it all for good. And even though that’s what would be best for her, selfishly that’s the last thing I want right now. What I want is more nights in the tree house, many more nights in her bed. I want to hold her hand as we walk across campus together and wait by the door for her to get out of class. One word of the truth is going to send all of those things crashing down around me. I can’t risk it. Not now.

“It’s okay,” I say finally. “Don’t worry about it.” I try to give her a smile, but I know it doesn’t erase all of the thoughts that have been racing through my head on the trip home.

“It’s not okay,” she says. “I know you think that Gramps is a white-hood wearing racist, and he does have a lot of old fashioned ideas, but none of the rest of us think like that. Mom went to school in Rhode Island for almost a year. I don’t agree with him at all, but when he gets in a mood like that, it’s best to just get out of the way and wait for it all to blow over.”

“I get that,” I say. I take her hand and turn it over in mine, stroking the palm with one finger. “Look, I’m in this with you.



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